In Your Shoes
by LZClotho
Summary: From an OTP trope list I found (I think) on fictorium's tumblr: body swap. Emma's magic misfires and causes both her and Regina to experience the world through each other's eyes for a short while. Post-curse, mid-season 2. One-shot. Complete.


**Summary:** From an OTP trope list I found (I think) on fictorium's tumblr: body swap. Emma's magic misfires and causes both her and Regina to experience the world through each other's eyes for a short while.**  
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**Author notes:** Thanks to fictorium for beta services!

**In Your Shoes**

Regina fumed. She growled at the woman across the room. "They're going to think I did this!" She paced, as she might when pondering any problem, but the familiar comfort of brushing her fingers through her short dark locks only unsettled her further when her fingers came away entangled in blonde. "Miss Swan!" She grimaced in frustration as she set about removing the strands from tying themselves around her fingertips.

"Hey, don't look at me! You told me to imagine myself on this side of the room." Hearing her own voice inflecting Emma Swan's whine made Regina grind her teeth. "Stop that! I may not have your perfect bite, but I like my teeth just the way they are, thank you!"

"Just. Shut. Up." It didn't have her dripping sarcasm, coming out as it did in Emma's higher tone.

The woman on the other side of the coffee table, standing by the fireplace, crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin to convey an "are you serious" expression. Only the effect didn't come off quite the same in Regina's black skirt suit and jacket with the crisp white shirt. Emma's typical wide stance also made Regina's body look mule-ish. Apparently sensing this, or made uncomfortable by it, the woman uncrossed her arms and tried instead to stuff hands in non-existent back jeans pockets. At last, the woman settled for putting her hands on her hips. She huffed.

Regina resisted - just barely - growling again for silence. It was beyond unnerving to hear her voice talking in Emma Swan's uncultured and unmeasured cadence.

"In the smallest words possible," she started. Then she stopped. Emma's voice sounded just pitiful, even with her words. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, finishing her thought more forcefully. "We have to recreate the conditions of the original spell." She took a deep breath. "Exactly what were you thinking when you accessed your magic?"

Regina watched her own face turn uncharacteristically red and the other woman averted her eyes.

"Miss Swan?" Regina blinked again, hearing the blonde's gentle tone soften the edges of what she had intended to be a terse inquiry. Is this why she always paused to listen when Emma spoke to her?

Abruptly the other woman turned back to look at her and said, "I can't remember." For Regina it felt weird seeing her body moving with such diffidence. She had always worked so hard to convey poise in every action. "Emma," on the other hand, was rubbing her well-manicured hands together in uncertainty, as if they had become sweaty. Perish the thought! And further, as Regina studied the darting eyes and pulse ticking in her throat, she knew Emma was lying. She began to wonder if she was this easy to read for the blonde when their positions had been reversed.

She cleared her throat pushing her mind back to the task at hand. "Well, let's start with the physical. Come stand over here. What were you looking at?" Regina grabbed for Emma and paused when her fingers closed around her own delicate bones. She wasn't really looking at the face, but in the contact she felt the tingle of Emma's magic and both gazes met in surprise. "I -"

Her own brown eyes bore an emotion Regina couldn't read as "Emma" wrapped delicate fingers around her hand and removed it from the jacket shoulder. "Um, I've got it."

The doorbell rang in the awkward silence that followed. Relief washed through dark eyes. Regina shook her head and started toward her front door.

"Why is this not freaking you out?" The waver sounding in her own voice did "freak" Regina out and she froze in her walk. She had never realized how small her voice could still sound - how much Emma's words in her voice reminded her of the young woman she'd been so very long ago: innocent, naive, in love with Daniel, and terrified of her mother.

"Because you're doing quite enough of that for the both of us, Miss Swan. Now, have a seat while I see who has come calling."

Turning back to continue her walk to the front door, Regina did shake her head watching herself - or rather herself in Emma's body - approach the front hallway mirror. The physicality was the same; green eyes, creamy skin, unruly long blonde hair, casual cotton blue shirt - Regina preferred silk - and even the red leather jacket, all familiar. But the expression in the green eyes, the shape of the shoulders, the way she held herself, it all looked beyond awkward. This was the effect of Regina trying to walk like herself in an unfamiliar body. Definitely uncomfortable. Regina was reminded why she preferred taking animal forms when she had to go unrecognized; the mental calisthenics were far more manageable. It was her mother who so enjoyed playing at being other people.

Her mother. Thinking of that woman brought Regina back to the entire reason Emma Swan was in her home getting magic lessons in the first place. Cora was here in Storybrooke somewhere. No doubt masquerading as someone else. She had slipped away in the aftermath of Archie's death, leaving a trail that had suggested Regina was responsible. And she continued to bide her time.

Regina reached for the front doorknob just an instant after looking through the peephole. "Henry!"

"Hi, Emma!" Her son launched himself against her body, wrapping his arms around her stomach and squeezing. "I came by to see how it was going. Are you getting familiar with your magic? Is mom a good teacher? Do you think she'd let me get a snack and watch?"

Regina's mind spun with his questions, but also from the physical sensations of his hug and the realization he thought she was Emma. She sank happily, albeit not without some guilt, into the feeling of his body against hers.

"Hey, kid."

Regina closed her eyes when she heard the incongruous phrase in her own voice across the foyer. Her son was too bright to miss the detail for long.

In the next instant his body stiffened against her grasp, pulling away. She let go the grip she had on his back, but did not remove her hands from him, lingering until the last possible moment in hope.

"Emma?" He looked at her first, but then turned to the brunette leaning on the doorframe from the living room. "Mom?"

"I, uh, kind of had an accident." Again, the words were pure Emma, but coming out of Regina's mouth and accompanied by Emma's typical abashed shrug, Regina knew the jig, such as it was, was up. She pulled away from Henry.

"You guys' bodies got swapped?" His eyes were wide in amazement and awe.

"I was trying to teach Miss Swan how to teleport so she might avoid the odd sword slash or two when she next fights Captain Hook." She looked down at what was for the time being, her own thigh, remembering seeing it once again sliced open as the blonde lay on the Storybrooke dock.

Henry's eyes widened even further, no doubt a reaction to her typical cadences coming out of Emma's mouth.

"This is so weird," he said finally, shaking his head. 'You're going to fix it, though, right?" This time he directed his question to her, and it was clear he was addressing her, Regina, and not Emma. He had never spoken to Emma, as he did to her since the curse broke, with an air of demand mixed with child-like pleading all in the same breath.

"I can only guide the process. Miss Swan's magic did this, so her magic has to undo it."

"Probably best if I get out of the way then?" Her son spoke from a place wise beyond his years. Behind him, Emma huffed. Regina and Henry both looked at her.

"I am not that hopeless," Emma spoke defensively, and for a brief second Regina admired Miss Swan's defiant nature. It sounded rather good in her tones. She found herself smiling.

But Regina quickly turned her attention back to Henry. She brushed her hand on his cheek, watching his eyes search hers. The edginess that had always accompanied his perusal of her face was gone, and she found herself relishing that feeling of unfettered acceptance. Because it was Emma's face staring at him, Henry didn't seem to get on the defensive as much. She felt her smile widening. "You can find something to eat in the kitchen," she said tenderly.

"OK." He grasped her hand against his cheek, but didn't push it away as he might have only yesterday. He patted it before stepping backward. Her face fell briefly, but then he smiled which stopped her emotional descent into despair. "Call me when you're done," he said before scampering away.

Regina straightened, hands shaking. She went to tuck them into her pockets only to find not her black blazer, but red leather. Incongruously across the short space she saw herself leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest, heels crossed at the ankles, one toe pointing into the floor.

"Shall we get this done?" "Emma" asked. "Or would you like to pretend we did and keep getting hugs from Henry?"

"He noticed almost immediately," Regina replied, and the sadness was apparent, too apparent, as it came through in Emma's tone.

"And I noticed the wary look he shot me before I spoke," Emma informed her. The dryness was almost, but not quite worthy of Regina herself.

"Let's just fix this then, shall we?" Regina gestured back to the living room. Emma turned, then stumbled. "I'd appreciate my heels returned in one piece, Miss Swan."

"Here." The other woman bent over and snatched the shoes from her feet, tossing them toward Regina who instinctively raised her hands and caught them before they could hit her in the stomach. Stunned immobile, Regina watched "herself" exhale, pout, and then stomp on stocking feet into the living room. "I didn't want to walk a mile in them anyway."

Regina considered the shoes and the phrase. In the short time that Regina had been responsible for teaching Emma about her magic she had learned one particular truth. The woman's emotional state dramatically affected her effectiveness. It was clear Regina would have to calm the other woman or her magic would not be able to undo this mishap.

It still begged the question then what exactly had Emma been thinking when she made the mistake in the first place?

"Miss Swan?" Regina moderated her approach, entering the living room and closing the door. "Let's try again. Just take it... step by step."

xxx

Emma looked up from her position staring into the fireplace and leaning hard on the mantel. She was positively crawling out of her skin - or rather Regina's - with frustration and anxiety. Regina's body made her feel like she was in a straitjacket. Her calves were screaming; tearing off the heels had only left her stretching her toes into the plush rug by the fire.

She stared across the distance at her own body moving in ways she had never imagined it could move. "Regina" strolled in, and it was almost possible to imagine herself a princess. The way her shoulders were perfectly aligned to her spine and hips, the easy roll of her walk. Emma swaggered. Regina floated, and watching her body actually do that... Unreal. Emma growled her frustration and slapped at the stonework.

"So, let's do this," she bit out. "I - You - were standing here. You - I -" Emma shook her head in frustration and finished curtly. "The couch."

The other woman stood next to the couch. Emma recalled in the initial attempt how she had watched Regina's growing frustration as she explained the steps Emma needed to take to move herself physically across the room.

"Imagine yourself standing here." Regina gestured to the space next to her at the couch. Emma had wanted to do this outside, but Regina said the closer the points of reference and the more distinct, the easier it would be. Emma started to paint the details of the space next to Regina into her mind's eye. The couch cushion beside Regina's right knee, the coffee table next to her left. The space in front of her, just a breath away from Regina's face. She'd been so close to that face so often. Her gaze drifted down to the glint of a small chain that lay against Regina's throat and draped her collarbones...

But then Emma opened her eyes. Her body still stood by the mantel. In fact, for several seconds she had wondered if she had died in the attempt, becoming a ghost. She looked right and left searching for Regina beside her, only to find she was standing alone. When she lifted her hands toward herself, though, Regina's professionally manicured fingers rose into her field of vision.

And she'd freaked out.

Her own voice in Regina's particular pattern brought her back to the present. "Now, access your magic. Think of where you want to go. However, this time you have to think of how your body feels. That should swap us back."

Emma had closed her eyes before; this time she kept her eyes on her body across the room. The twitch under her breast that signaled the presence of her magic wasn't there when she focused on it. She lifted her hands again - studying Regina's manicured fingernails. She rubbed the pads of her fingertips together, feeling how satiny smooth and uncalloused they were. So unlike her own.

"Miss Swan, concentrate on this task, please."

Emma lifted her gaze to the other woman. "I can't feel my magic." She drew her brow worriedly tight.

The other woman looked down at her hands. Abruptly she clutched her chest.

"What?" Emma bolted forward as her body shook and started to fall. She caught her own body before it hit the table or the couch. She lowered the woman to sit on the couch and then sat next to her. "What happened?"

"I... think I have your magic," the other woman said, staring at their joined hands.

"How is that possible?"

"Why didn't I realize this before?" Regina was turning over their hands back and forth. "Your magic is tied to your DNA, literally the genes in your body make you magical."

"And what about yours? What about your magic?"

"Because I've done shapeshifting before, I learned to tie my magic to me, to my essence. Otherwise I'd never stop being a … cat or..." She remembered with distaste one time having to select a rat to enter a dungeon. "Whatever animal I'd selected."

"So you have both my magic and your magic?"

Lifting a hand Regina considered the basic fireball spell. She'd manifested it a couple times already in this world. It was part of her magic. But the fireball instead formed as a shimmering ball of light.

"That's yours," she realized aloud. "Not mine."

"OK. Well, that probably means you can undo this, and we can move past my mistake."

The other woman looked at her, taking in her whole appearance head to toe. "I still need to know the triggering thought. To undo it."

Emma pulled away. "I... may have been admiring your... shirt," she said in a small voice.

Regina laughed. As the sound of her own laughter enveloped Emma, she closed her eyes. "Hold on, dear," husked around her and resonated in her own voice. A hand wrapped around hers and her entire body flushed as though she sank naked into a hot bath.

"Emma, open your eyes." Her eyes snapped open. On the couch in front of her sat Regina Mills, poised, smiling, in her skirt suit and black jacket and crisp white shirt. The one that gaped slightly revealing the satin of a lacy bra. The same bra that had gotten her in trouble in the first place. Emma glanced down and away from the sight, and saw the woman's hands were wrapped around hers. She looked up and found herself swimming in Regina's brown gaze once again.

It was then that she registered that Regina had used her first name. "You called me Emma."

The dark head bobbed once. "I did. I think you merit the personal address. I've now spent a bit of time in your shoes. And you... have spent a bit of time in mine." Regina laughed. The sound, resonating deeply, communicated things to Emma she hadn't felt from the other woman before. Delight. Tenderness. Care.

"So how do I make sure I don't do that again?"

"Stop looking at me. Try it now. Think about being over at that mantel, picking up the picture of Henry sitting there."

Turning around on the cushion, Emma studied the mantel, seeing the picture, imagining herself standing next to the fireplace, feeling its heat near her feet, calves and thighs, and lifting Henry's photo to study it more closely.

Suddenly she was there.

She blinked at the framed photo in her hand and turned to see Regina rising from the sofa. "That's all it took?" She smiled as she felt and heard her own true voice speaking.

"We've spoken several times about your lack of focus." Emma's smile widened further, joined by Regina's, as they both recognized Regina's distinctive cadence and tone.

"And if I choose to focus on you?" Emma had stepped into Regina's personal space while the brunette spoke.

"Henry is just in the kitchen," Regina replied.

"So... later?" Emma said, sounding hopeful... and entirely like herself.

Regina smiled. "I think that might be arranged."


End file.
